


Soundwave stars in a bad porno

by Audio_Interference



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: I don't know how to tag but DUBIOUS CONSENT, I'm sorry that this is the first thing I've ever posted here, Oviposition, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 02:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audio_Interference/pseuds/Audio_Interference
Summary: There's a slight miscommunication with the communication's officer. Soundwave assumed he needed to build a gestation chamber. The insecticons wanted him to BE the gestation chamber.





	Soundwave stars in a bad porno

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first finished FF!
> 
> Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!!
> 
> And if anyone has any online grammatical resources, I would be super grateful if you could share them!

The request had initially seemed innocuous enough. 

Shockwave had organized a meeting between Soundwave and Venom as a favor to the Insecticon leader, maybe as a means to gain some leverage or pay Venom back for whatever ugly task Shockwave might have requested from him. Either way, Soundwave had arrived at the agreed meeting location to discuss troop regenesis and the potential to tie the new insecticon’s comm systems directly to their neural nets. They wanted a hive mind that could be controlled with greater accuracy than the swarm that plagued Cybertron. 

“Project: Unviable.”  
That had been Soundwave’s assessment.  
Comm systems needed to be accessible for updates, and it was a nightmare of impracticality to have to surgically install updates one by one into an entire army. Additionally, it was just too great a risk. Their current swarm was firmly outside of autobot control. If they made the swarm easier to influence by means of a mass communication's system, it set them up to have the system hacked and he wasn't enough of a fool to discredit Blaster's abilities. Additionally, something in him stirred uneasily at the prospect of allowing any army to be subjected to what could end up being mass mind control. It didn’t matter much that the Insecticons didn’t have much a mind to control, it still set a dangerous precedent and the risk and cost outweighed any possible benefit.  
Soundwave had summarized this information in a databurst, rife with statistical predictions that underscored just how impractical the idea was. 

Venom shifted in his seat, but there wasn’t much disappointment in him. In fact, there wasn’t much a reaction at all. Soundwave would have found that suspicious if he didn’t already suspect that Venom too, was uncomfortable with the idea, and likely asking on behalf of Shockwave. Threads of excitement snuck into Venom’s field as Soundwave teeked it, excitement which the insecticon quickly dulled as he tried to look serious. They were on to the next topic.  
“About the troop regenesis… We will still need resources for that. None of the experimental gestation chambers that have been designed for us have worked.” He shifted again, frame almost strained in its attempt to appear neutral.  
Suspicion was creeping up on Soundwave like a shadow, though it was paired with amusement. He was a master at this game of pretend. He could sense the… Eagerness? Trepidation? Seeping from Venom like hot air shuttered vents attempted to keep trapped inside. Soundwave, conversely, appeared relaxed, waiting for Venom to continue.  
The excitement in his field abruptly smoothed down to hopeful determination and Venom leaned on the surface of the table, voice lowering. “We were told you could help us. We only need a small batch. Enough to know that this is going to work and the brood will live.”

Soundwave looked back at him, face betraying no emotion.  
So Shockwave had decided it was too much of a hassle to direct his attentions towards conceiving a gestation chamber that would successfully create new insecticons. It made sense. This was as much a favor to Venom as it was a way for Shockwave to pass a task he deemed trivial off on the nearest competent decepticon. Soundwave wondered, with just a hint of internal irritability, why Shockwave hadn’t tried Starscream first, but then again Soundwave assumed the ‘emotionless’ scientist was being logically petty in retaliation to Soundwave shooting down Shockwave's funding proposal for yet another one of his pet projects in their last high command meeting.  
Venom shifted in his seat again, drawing Soundwave’s attention back to him. “Will you do it? Shockwave said you’d agree.”  
Soundwave held in the urge to be visibly annoyed. He hated it when Shockwave predicted his actions. However, his petty urge to say no just to spite them lost out to the practicality of replenishing their Insecticon forces. For The Cause. “Yes. I will assist you.”  
He heard Bombshell move from where he had been guarding the door, and only had enough time to turn to regard him with some dismissive curiosity before his spark and processor both were plunged into an icy alarm and then nothing at all. The cerebrio shell glistened on the back of his neck as Bombshell caught his frame as it swayed.

 

They had him laid out in their small outpost, a suitable distance away from the rest of the forces. Chopshop was running his hands down Soundwave’s sides, fiddling under the armor.  
Ransack watched in the corner. “Stop looking for things to take. Where are your manners.”  
Chopshop sat on Soundwave’s lap and huffed out a vent. “I’m not trying to steal from him, I’m trying to rev him up. Besides, since when have you ever cared at all about manners.” He rolled his hips against Soundwave’s, feeling some puerile amusement as he watched the buttons on his pelvic plating depress from the rolling contact. 

The carrier’s arms were bound over his head and secured to the wall to make him easier to maneuver. For now, he was lax and splayed out, and Chopshop was pleased to feel the gentle gusts of warm air come a bit faster from the unconscious mech as he explored his chassis. He let his digits slide teasingly along the rim of the tapedeck, dipping lower to tickle the seams where the dock door connected to the armor. 

Soundwave gave a small twitch and he stroked his heavily plated abdomen, enjoying the way the armor moved slightly with his hand, totally relaxed and pliable over his protoform. Chopshop ground his hips against Soundwave’s again, their panels sliding together. Ransack shifted impatiently from the corner. “Just comm Bombshell and speed this up. We’ve waited long enough.” 

Chopshop tched and pinged a request to bombshell to activate Soundwave’s interface protocols. He got an affirmative, and after a moment, the unconscious carrier shifted his hips of his own accord. Delighted by the reciprocation, Chopshop let his hand glide over Soundwave’s pelvic buttons, chuckling as he pressed the play button slowly and rhythmically and watched as Soundwave’s hips began pressing back. Despite how much he was enjoying the playtime, he was impatient to begin as well, so he let his hand wander lower. Soundwave’s interface panel had heated, but it wasn’t open yet. He shifted to drape the carrier’s legs loosely over his bulky shoulders, beginning to press his thumbs against either side of the thin, protective plate. He rubbed circles into it, digits brushing the seams where his thighs connected as they teased the edges of the panel, and much to his delight it slid up just a bit. 

Pressing his advantage, he wedged the edge of a finger into the small opening and wiggled it to try and get in further. The array panel tried to twitch shut, but his digit kept it open, and after a moment the mechanisms relaxed. Carefully and very slowly, he glided the panel back, only meeting some slight twitches of resistance as he revealed his prize.  
Soundwave’s valve had just begun to glisten with lubricant. The lips were pearly white, but as he spread them gently to inspect it, he noted how they darkened to a deep blue inside of him, red biolights drawing his eyes back into the promising warmth.  
Biting his glossa, Chopshop reached down to fumble with his own panel, need starting to flood his lines. Ransack’s feigned disinterest slipped as he watched his comrade retract his spike and began pumping it slowly, hardening it’s sleek length. Fluid had already begun dripping from the head of his spike, something that glowed a soft orange, and he rubbed it tenderly yet liberally against the soft, hot folds of Soundwave’s valve, and over his inner thighs. Soundwave’s legs spread slightly, the carrier shifting as his valve clenched on nothing. 

Whatever the warm fluid was, he could feel it. It was pleasant at first, drawing little trembling threads of pleasure into his array, but slowly it had begun zinging. Half asleep, he was thinking of the feeling of the mouth watering tang of some energon mixtures, but stuck in his thighs and valve, making them slick and desperate for contact. He shifted again and was vaguely aware of strong hands angling his pelvis and lifting him slightly, and then all at once he was filled. 

It felt incredible. Though rare, he had had erotic dreams before, but always vague and half formed. The few times he had interfaced, he had never relaxed enough to enjoy it much, and the one time he had let himself be spiked, he hadn’t enjoyed it at all. This, though. The delicious heat flooded his valve, filled it up, like a tongue in his mouth. Whatever fluid had been on his valve lips had been partially pressed inside of him, and the sweet, needy heat it inspired in him was entirely satisfied by the slow friction of that long, hard spike dragging lazily in and out of his lax valve. He laid back, realizing somewhere in the back of his processor that his hands were bound, and pressed back hesitantly against the invading force, asking for more as his calipers fluttered in pleasure. 

Chopshop chuckled as he heard Soundwave’s internal fans click on, enjoying the drowsy, noncommittal stretch and writhe of the frame under him as Soundwave shifted to accommodate him. He noticed the visor light just a bit, a sleepy, pleasure flooded glow as he pumped his straining length between Soundwave’s wet thighs. The carrier was waking up. As a ‘good morning,’ Chopshop ran a hand down his thigh, found his aft, and gave it a firm squeeze. 

Soundwave’s optics brightened more as he found his processor through the glow of pleasure, his traitor of a valve squeezing against the spike nestled deep within him and sending a beautiful buzz through his abdomen. The warm hand on his aft had begun to knead the armor there and Soundwave tried to collect his thoughts. The meeting- They had asked him about… His vents stalled as Chopshop changed the angle, and without meaning to his hips twitched hard back against his spike, hitting the cluster of sensors again and earning Chopshop a soft gasp. Soundwave abandoned his train of thought and tried to roll his hips again, face contorting into an expression of need underneath his battle mask. His efforts were ineffective, and Chopshop’s hand on his aft stilled his squirming. “Wow. Good thing I’m on top, you don’t look like you know what you’re doing at all.” 

The insult definitely woke him up, embarrassment chasing the pleasure from his frame as he shifted again for a different reason. He tried to get one of his legs into a position to kick Chopshop off, but his limbs all felt heavy and sluggish. The kick, too, was ineffective. Chopshop grabbied his leg and pressed a kiss to the side of it in retaliation. Having one leg lifted in the air had changed the angle again, grinding the thick spike in him against his valve walls, and he twitched and relaxed against the floor again, the pleasure flooding through him. Chopshop murmured some praise and shifted, grinding into him as he sat up a bit for a better angle and finally pushed in hard.  
Soundwave’s spinal strut jolted into an arch as Chopshop began working him open with relentless short thrusts, hard and fevered. Soundwave’s helm tipped back, helpless to do anything but clench desperately around the hot length as he felt himself nearing his edge. He had no stamina for such activities, never having been brought to overload by another mech, but he could feel it now, constricting his tensing frame, pleasure beginning to flare up as he began to near his climax. Chopshot noticed, more of the orange fluid spurting from his spike head to douse the lips of Soundwave’s valve as he pulled out and denied him.  
Sounwave’s valve clenched wetly as he felt the fluid trickle into his burning depths, maddening with empty sensation as he tried to hang onto the elusive pleasure long enough to finish. Chopshop was petting the folds of his valve and it wasn’t helping, the new dose of his breeding fluid filling him with a need so intense, it felt like fire. He shifted his hips restlessly, vents stuttering, and felt insulted by how helpless he was. 

With his free hand, Chopshop brushed his cheek, and then pressed his thumb into the sharp seam that divided his battle mask in two. “Open up, Sounders.” Soundwave hesitated, but couldn’t think when the warm tip of Chopshop’s spike touched the entrance of his valve again, not breaching it, but pumping another small gush of fluid messily into him. His battle mask withdrew and he writhed, abandoning the dignity that meant so much to him as he clenched his teeth, optics burning up at Chopshot with a furious desire. Chopshop chuckled and sent another ping to Bombshell. 

Everything dulled back instantly into that lax, drowsy state. The burning need in his valve had been glossed over, and his visor dimmed as his frame relaxed. Chopshop rubbed his thumb over Soundwave’s lips, parting them easily. “Sorry for the wait, Ransack.”  
He turned over to his companion, who was standing with his own fans whirring, waiting with surprising patience to play his role. Chopshop grinned. “Come over here and I’ll show him how to keep you entertained.”  
Soundwave stirred a little, starting to frown, but Chopshop slid into him as he simultaneously draped his frame over Soundwave’s, and the carrier couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped him as the hard spike settled comfortably and deeply inside him. His inner muscles began to knead it to keep it in. Chopshop captured Soundwave’s mouth and kissed him, tender and sweet, wrapping an arm underneath the carrier as he pressed their chests together and let his spike throb deep inside him. He wanted more of the quiet officer’s soft sounds. He wanted to hear him murmur with pleasure and sigh out near-silent whimpers, but the most he got were the warm gasps of his vents and the delicate squeeze of loose and willing calipers.

He began to hump him in earnest then, bent over him, enjoying the hitching of Soundwave’s intakes as the pleasure began to wind him back up again, make him desperate. He had asked Bombshell not to let the carrier overload, kissing Soundwave until the mech had gained enough insight to kiss him back. He pulled back with a gasp, and Soundwave barely had time to be surprised before another warm spike was pressing against his lips. Lower body alight with sensation, Soundwave opened his mouth and let Ransack push in, the other insecticon cupping his head as he let his ovipositor wake up to the wet heat of his intakes. Soundwave swallowed around him, desperate, as Chopshop used his hips and pounded into him unrelentingly. Soundwave could feel that same hot pleasure building all in his frame, in his chassis and spark, coiling up in his array, but it wouldn’t release. Chopshop was hitting his ceiling node and sending desperate bursts of pleasure into him, brushing the entrance of his excess tanks, making him feel absolutely shaken apart with the need to let go, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t realize Ransack had gotten his tapedeck open until he felt clever fingers slip inside and tweak something, and that was when he moaned. Low and harmonious, breaking his usual monotone and reverberating through his chassis and through the strange spike being pushed gently in and out of his intakes. Chopshop held him around the waist, hunched over, and came.

Soundwave arched his back and nearly choked on the length in his mouth, forgetting to keep sucking and swallowing as he felt a new sort of heat flood inside him, valve flexing to milk all it could, but still he couldn’t push himself over the edge. He trembled desperately as the softening spike slid out of his clenching depths, shifting his frame in protest and swallowing around Ransack more adamantly in a bid to get what he needed. His desperation was only stilled when he felt something hard and round push through the inside of the odd spike, tasting something different. Ransack groaned and pulled his length out of Soundwave’s mouth, holding himself as he moved around to shove Chopshop out of the way. Soundwave gasped through his intakes, trying to cool off and either reduce the need to climax or get himself there, crying out as Ransack took Chopshop’s place inside him as well. 

Chopshop sent a request to Bombshell, and Soundwave almost sobbed in relief as it felt like something loosened inside him. Pleasure tore through him as he felt objects begin to push into his valve, hard and solid, rolling into the ridiculously slick valve to sink into his hypersensitive excess tanks. He could feel each vibration as the eggs knocked gently against each other, deep inside him, and the sensation of having them fill him so entirely and stay lodged inside was finally enough to push him over. He tensed as his entire body shuddered and arched, but Ransack only readjusted his hold and continued to lay, ignoring the strain of long denied pleasure in the heaving frame underneath him. It felt like forever until they were done, Ransack withdrawing and a viscous line of fluid following his ovipositor out of the wall used valve. Soundwave was still panting, knocked nearly offline, as Bombshell took notes from a hidden room off to the side. He activated his comm.  
::Ransack and Chopshop are done. Barrage and Venom, you’re next.::


End file.
